


Of Eyeliner and Daisy Chains

by jenish (phizzle)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-11
Updated: 2006-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-07 21:45:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/69551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/jenish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For clumsygyrl.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Of Eyeliner and Daisy Chains

**Author's Note:**

> For clumsygyrl.

When asked later by an incredulous Billy, Dom admitted he honestly had no idea how he'd ended up there. "I mean, seriously Bill, I have _no idea_. I don't even remember being invited, or anyone I was with saying 'Hey, I know where there's a party!' I was just out and, then, I was _there_."

He couldn't even blame Elijah, because that little fucker had slipped away earlier in the night when he'd got a phone call from Sean, leaving Dom with a group of people he half-knew and sort of liked. Dom called him the next day and said, "Do you know where I ended up last night? More to the point, do you know _why_?"

Elijah had laughed louder and longer than Dom had heard him laugh since that one practical joke on set back in New Zealand. The one that had started The Great NZ Joke Wars that he and Viggo still carry on to this day. (The latest masterstroke of Mortensen's had arrived in the mail two days earlier. Dom was laying plans for his retaliation.)

Sean claimed Dom had no one to blame but himself for That Night. Dom claimed that Sean could perform sexual acts on himself, and Sean sweetly claimed that he loved Dom too.

What does one do when, though the path to this place remains unclear, one finds oneself in Pete Wentz's house, at a party? Grab a drink, Dom concluded, and have a look around.

In the first room he looked in, he saw a guy with an afro kissing a guy with long brown hair who Dom realised was that one who looked like a girl he'd bumped into on the way in. Bill something; he'd noticed because when people call other people by the names of your best friends, you remember that. He nodded at them, and at the tall guy who was watching the guys kissing with a grin (and whose name began with G, Dom was almost certain), and moved on to the next room.

In that room, he saw a skinny boy with a face painted in intricate swirling patterns talking intently to a guy in a trucker hat and polo shirt. A laptop was open on the table in front of them, with hefty-looking headphones hooked up to it. The sofa next to them contained a very, very pretty girl and a tall guy whose arm was draped casually over her shoulders. A guy with brown hair sat at their feet, on the phone with someone called Darren, telling him he should come find them when he got there. All five of the room's occupants looked up when Dom paused at the door, and smiled at him. He offered a smile back and walked on.

The third and fourth rooms were tightly packed with people, music loud, bodies writhing in a mass. Dom saw at least six straight couples kissing, and more than four gay couples, and a three-way kiss between two guys and a girl, and thought, maybe it's time for some fresh air. He grabbed another drink and headed out to the patio.

He'd been sitting there maybe ten minutes, closing his eyes and thinking about ringing Billy (automatically adding nine hours to the time and cursing the curvature of the earth, wondering when Billy'd be up and if the phone would wake Jack) when he heard the door behind him slide open and shut again. Someone sat next to him, and Dom sipped his drink and glanced over.

It was someone he'd never met before (but then nearly everyone here was someone he'd never met before) and really, Dom would have said, just to look at him, that he didn't belong here either. But there was something about this guy, an air that surrounded him, that would make him fit in anywhere. The impression shimmered and dissipated, leaving Dom feeling slightly uncomfortable.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," the guy replied. "I'm Jon, by the way."

"Dominic." He wondered if he should offer his hand for shaking, but Jon didn't seem to be expecting it. "Dom."

"So, Dom. I feel I should ask the obvious question." He looked at Dom squarely. "What's an actor from Lord of the Rings doing at Pete Wentz's party?"

Dom laughed. "That's the first sensible thing anyone has said to me tonight," he said, leaning back on his hands. "Tell you the truth, I haven't a clue. I was just out with some friends, and we kind of … ended up here."

Jon nodded. "You'd be surprised how often that happens. Pete's like a siren call sometimes," he added with a grin. "People are just drawn in. That, and he knows a lot of people who bring everybody they've ever spoken to to any party they happen to be passing."

"Don't blame me," Dom held his hands up, tilting forwards and then back again as he leaned. "It was an accident."

"I know. I bet your friends disappeared into the crowd as soon as they got here." Jon was giving him a shrewd look, but it wasn't unfriendly by any means.

"They did, actually, yeah." Dom shifted and unconsciously sat in a yoga position, picking his drink back up and tilting it at Jon. "So how did you end up here?"

Jon mirrored the position and smiled. "I'm part of the family. I knew Pete back in Chicago, now I'm in Panic. He's a good friend."

Dom squinted at him. "_You're_ in that band who go around looking like Adam Ant?"

"Yeah." Jon chuckled. "I see you're no stranger to eyeliner yourself," he indicated Dom's eyes. Dom shrugged.

"I don't – hey, that kid inside, the one with the face paint, is he in your band too? Skinny boy, talking to the guy in the hat."

The smile that spread over Jon's jaw jolted something in Dom's rib cage. "You kind of just summed up Ryan," he said, laughing softly in the back of his mouth and swinging his legs. "He's in my band, yes. And that was Patrick he was talking to."

Dom shook his head. "I'll never remember all these names."

"I guess you won't need to," Jon half-shrugged, and Dom for a fraction of a moment wanted to write them all down to make sure he did. Maybe draw a diagram or two, because just from one look, it seemed like he'd need it to keep track.

"S'pose," was what he said, though, and the moment passed. They were silent for a few seconds.

The door behind them slid open, and a voice proclaimed loudly, "There you are!" Arms snaked around Jon's neck, and a boy with a mop of brown hair pressed his lips to Jon's cheek. "We miss you."

Jon twisted around and pulled the boy to sit nearly in his lap. "Well, I've been out here. Brendon this is Dom, Dom, Brendon. He's in my band, too."

Brendon looked at Dom, and smiled. "Hi," he said, sprawling further into Jon's personal space. For no reason Dom could think of, it made him miss Jorge for a fleeting second.

"Hi," he returned, quirking a smile and trying to picture Brendon in the makeup. It wasn't difficult; Brendon was wearing about as much eyeliner as Dom himself was, and tonight he'd had a fit of nostalgia for the days when his eyes had seemed particularly naked without a line or two of kohl.

"Spencer went out front to look for you," Brendon said to Jon. "I should –"

A voice interrupted him. "Yeah, and we couldn't find you, so we came out here." The boy with the face paint – Ryan, that was Ryan, who had been talking to Patrick – settled at Jon's back and wrapped his arms around Jon's waist. Another boy sat on Jon's other side.

"Hi," the second boy said, looking at Dom. "Who's this?"

"Boys, this is Dom. Dom, these are my other bandmates," Jon said. "You've met Ryan, kind of. This is Spencer," he added, which Dom had guessed, and there was _definitely_ something about the way Spencer was draping his arm over Jon. Predatory, almost. Jon had Brendon mostly in his lap and Ryan pressed against his back and Spencer leaning up against his side and Dom had to wonder for a dizzying moment if 'bandmates' was just another word for 'boyfriends' or 'fellow participators in many orgies' or whatever they were because the look on Jon's face was equal parts love, pride, and a contentment that would be smug if there was more self-awareness in it. It made Dom almost lonely, until he shook the feeling off.

"Hi," he smiled at them. Brendon extended one hand, and it wasn't an invitation to shake, it was – Dom took it, and Brendon pulled until he was half sitting up and Dom was half leaning down. Breath landed hot and a little sticky just below his ear.

"Nice to meet you," Brendon murmured, like he was saying something else entirely.

"Likewise," Dom swallowed.

Brendon leaned back and released his hand, sprawling in Jon's lap again. Spencer brushed his fingers through Brendon's hair, and Dom watched, and blushed.

"So," he cleared his throat. "You guys did that video with the circus, right?"

Spencer laughed. "If you want to go down that route, I've caught a few episodes of Lost and I like it."

"You can't play bass for shit, though," Ryan spoke up, but he was grinning at Dom, and it didn't feel like an insult. "I saw that episode."

"You can't sing either," Brendon added, his face open and somehow affectionate.

"But you're pretty," Spencer finished.

Dom felt like everyone had switched to speaking a language he only half understood. He had the vague impression that all three of them were simultaneously hitting on him, and he looked at Jon, only to see him giving him the once-over.

"True," Jon said to Spencer, and Dom decided that really, he didn't need all that higher brain function, so it was okay that it had shut off. Because four guys were all coming on to him at once and Brendon seemed like one of those people who it's really hard to say no to and there's only so much a brain can take before it gives up and declares _Sorry, mate, you're on your own_.

"Um," Dom tried.

Jon patted his knee reassuringly. Or at least, Dom assumed it was meant to be reassuring. It was hard to tell, because Brendon's hand joined Jon's on his knee and moved slightly upwards.

Jon smiled and leaned down until his mouth was at Brendon's ear. "Down, boy," he murmured, curving a smile, and Brendon removed his hand, pouting slightly at Dom.

"I," Dom attempted.

"We'll be in the basement room," Spencer said, untangling himself from where, Dom realised, he had been half wrapped around Ryan and Jon. The four of them unravelled, and stood. "Come find us if you get bored."

Brendon winked at Dom and patted his cheek with the palm of one hand, then grabbed Ryan around the hips and pulled him close. They disappeared through the patio doors, leaving Dom alone with the breeze.

He sat for a minute, wondering if they were having him on, wondering if he should just go the hell home, wondering if he'd regret it if he went to find the basement room, wondering if he'd regret it if he didn't. He flashed forward, thinking of waking up at his place like normal, and thinking of waking up with those boys and tasting tonight on his tongue. He sat, and the breeze blew at him, and it smelled faintly of jasmine.

"Hey," said a voice behind him in soft greeting. "You okay out here?" Dom turned, and oh, that was Pete Wentz.

"Yeah," he said, voice slightly thick. He cleared his throat. "Great party." He raised a glass.

"Uh huh. Ryan said to tell you it's the stairs near the kitchen and the second door on the right." Pete looked – something. Amused, maybe? Intrigued? A bit of both, probably.

"Oh. Um. Thanks," Dom stuttered out, and stood up. He wasn't sure, but he thought Pete patted him on the ass when he passed.

"Be good to my boys," Pete said, flashed a grin, and disappeared into the next room. Dom blinked at the space in the air where he'd been, and decided to see if he could find out where the kitchen was and if there were any stairs near it.

The second door on the right down the stairs turned out to lead to a room containing one large futon and the biggest pile of cushions and enormous pillows Dom had ever come across. Ryan and Brendon were lying on these, shirts discarded on the floor, Brendon tracing one of the patterns on Ryan's cheek with his tongue. Dom stopped, hand still raised from knocking. Spencer, who had opened the door, tugged on it and pulled him inside, locking the door after him.

"We're not locking you in," he said to Dom's startled look. "We're locking everyone else out."

"If by 'everyone else' you mean 'Pete'," Jon chuckled from his vantage point on the futon. Spencer settled at his side, obviously taking up the position he'd been in before Dom had knocked.

"And Travis, if he's stoned again. Which he probably is," Spencer pointed out.

"And Gabe," Brendon and Ryan chorused. They smiled at each other, and kissed, though what they were doing wasn't really so much _kissing_ as attempting to eat each other. Dom blinked, and sat down on the edge of the futon.

"I'm not, er, really sure what I'm doing here," he admitted, and though he was addressing Jon, he was finding it hard to tear his eyes away from Ryan and Brendon.

"It's alright," Spencer said, and he was pressing up against Dom's side and had one arm around Dom's back and was tilting his mouth against Dom's neck to say, "you don't have to know."

Dom shut his eyes as Spencer's lips connected with skin, and then teeth connected, gentle, and Dom groaned involuntarily. He tilted his neck, exposing more of it for Spencer, and he was going to get up, any minute, and leave, because he couldn't do this, he couldn't – these were _boys_, they were – he was pretty certain that if he stayed there would be sex, and nakedness, and he really, really had not come here tonight for an orgy, and was that really what he _wanted_?

He felt hands on his hips and he jumped, opening his eyes to see Jon kneeling in front of him, looking up, and he definitely couldn't do this. "I –" he said. "Look, I – you guys are great, really, but –" Spencer's tongue swirled on his neck and his breath hitched. "I can't," Dom's breath rushed out and there was none of it for his inhale and he paused for a second until it returned. "I can't," he repeated.

"Spence," Jon said softly, and Spencer pressed his open mouth once, gentle, to Dom's neck and leaned back. "Dom, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Spencer slipped something into his hand. Dom looked down – oh. The key. "You can leave any time," Spencer told him, eyes ringed in black and full of sincerity and smoky something and – young. He was so young, Dom thought, looking at him.

"You can just watch, if you want," Ryan spoke up, and Dom's eyes snapped over to him and Brendon again. Brendon detached his lips from Ryan's throat for long enough to give a knowing smile.

"I bet he does," he murmured, and Dom felt a blush creeping over his ears. Brendon bit down on Ryan's shoulder, and Ryan moaned. Dom instinctively wanted to look away, instinctively couldn't.

Jon moved to Spencer's other side, and Spencer patted Dom's thigh before he shifted onto Jon's lap, legs either side and pressing gently down, chest to chest. (Groin to groin.) Jon's hands slid up over Spencer's thighs, cupping his ass and pulling him a little further in. Spencer smiled smugly, brushing Jon's hair out of his eyes, and landed soft kisses on his mouth, angled perfectly so Dom could see, could see when Spencer took Jon's bottom lip between his teeth, when Jon's tongue darted out to meet Spencer's. Jon groaned into the kiss, and over on the cushions Ryan was unbuckling Brendon's belt and Brendon was wriggling out of his trousers and Ryan's were already kicked off his ankles. Dom fiddled with the key, something for his hands to do, turning it over and over as he watched, first Jon taking off Spencer's shirt, then Brendon circling Ryan's nipples with long swathes of his tongue, then Spencer sliding off Jon's lap and taking his hand, then Ryan reaching out with both arms to take Spencer's and Jon's hands and pull them down, then Brendon pulling Jon's shirt off while Spencer worked at his trousers and Ryan worked at Spencer's.

Dom almost forgot he was there, unaware of the key being rotated between his hands, unaware of anything but the boys, all four now naked across the room, twining and untwining and retwining. Brendon had what appeared from the colour of the tube to be banana flavoured lube, and Dom knew it was when he caught a whiff of it, and he watched as one slicked the other slicked the other slicked the other in a human daisy chain - _a human daisy chain of gay sex_, Dom thought, and decided to write that on his hands when he got home, small enough to be illegible. Any further thoughts were utterly destroyed by the look on Ryan's face as Brendon, after pulling twice on his own cock with a lube-covered hand, rammed into him. It wasn't gentle, but Ryan took it and pushed down onto it and Brendon's open mouth sank onto the back of Ryan's neck, and Dom wondered how many fucking times they'd done this because seeing Ryan like this was like suddenly seeing someone doing what they were born to do, and is it even possible to be born to be fucked? He didn't know, but he watched as Spencer pushed inside Jon and Jon arched back and reached one hand behind him, cupping Spencer's hip and twisting his neck so he could kiss him. Brendon reached back blindly and his hand connected with Jon's cock. Jon hissed in his breath, and broke the kiss to let Brendon guide him forwards, brushing against Brendon's ass until they both whimpered and Jon slid inside and Brendon's face relaxed. They were on their sides, dominoes, _they look like dominoes_, Dom observed, disjointed, and why hadn't he joined them, why – he barely even noticed when he stood up, not taking his eyes off Spencer, who hitched his leg over Jon's waist and Brendon's and brushed Ryan's with his ankle, and Jon, who tilted his head back as Spencer kissed his shoulder, and Brendon, who was biting in lines down Ryan's back, and Ryan, Ryan whose mouth was open and his eyes closed and his throat exposed, arched. Dom dropped the key, fell to his knees, and Ryan opened his eyes to connect with Dom's.

Ryan smiled, and crooked a finger, and Dom shuffled closer, and then Ryan's and Brendon's hands were unzipping and unbuttoning and Dom's trousers slid to his knees, and he shifted closer, and Ryan pulled him in by the waist, and then Ryan's tongue was licking, _licking_, at Dom's cock and Dom started to close his eyes but couldn't, couldn't. Spencer was watching him, eyes locked, tongue flicking against Jon's ear, and Brendon was stroking in circles on Dom's stomach with his fingertips, and Jon, Jon was looking at him and smiling a half smile that was composed of nothing but pure happiness. Dom calmed, for a second, until Ryan's mouth closed over his cock and his head fell back and he groaned, loudly.

Ryan sucked like he was made for this, made for being fucked both ends, and Dom thrust into his mouth because Ryan acted like he could take it, and fuck, he _could_, and he _did_, and Dom tried to watch him and watch Brendon fucking him and murmuring strings of low throaty words into his back, and Jon fucking Brendon with one arm wrapped around his stomach, and Spencer fucking Jon and scraping teeth and lips over Jon's earlobe, all at once. Brendon's hand reached low and cupped and pressed, thumb running over Ryan's jaw, and Dom just threw his head back and let his mouth hang open as he came, as Ryan swallowed around him, as he twitched and slipped away and fell back onto his heels. He blinked to clear his vision, wriggled forwards again and wrapped one hand around Ryan's cock. He watched them, still fucking, daisy chain, momentum and push and pull and circle and lick and bite and kiss. One by one, they shuddered and collapsed against each other's backs – Spencer with a wet groan, Brendon with a grunt and a sharp thrust, Jon with a long exhale ending on a sigh of a contented sound, and finally Ryan, spilling onto Dom's fingers and mewling as Brendon sucked on his neck from behind.

Dom woke up the next morning, too warm and with the press of bodies around him. Brendon was sprawled half on top of him and Jon; Spencer and Ryan were curled together, reminding Dom of his next door neighbour's kittens.

He had breakfast in the kitchen while Jon made toast and Patrick ate cereal and smiled a little awkwardly at him. Dom raided the cupboards and found some tea (not that it was _good_ tea, mind, but it was tea nonetheless) and asked, when Pete appeared, if he minded Dom making some.

"Knock yourself out," Pete said. Patrick kept glancing over as Dom was making it, until Dom asked if he wanted a cup and Patrick's ears pinked and he said yeah, if Dom didn't mind. Dom did not, in fact, mind, and he ended up making a pot of it. Ryan seemed very interested in the process, and took his with milk and one sugar.

"This is good," he said, which was greeted with a series of nods; Patrick, Pete, Jon, Gabe and Bill had asked to try it, and Dom was finding out exactly why this house had such a large kitchen.

"Hey, Pete," called a guy with short brown curly hair, who appeared at the back door, "Hemmy is covered in dirt, where's your hose?"

"Joe! Come try this tea, it's really good. Like, British good," Pete beckoned him over. Joe sipped it, and nodded appreciatively. "The hose is in the garage, I'll come with you."

"Okay. You can hold him." Joe canted a smile, and they disappeared outside.

"So," said Dom, after a silence. "I guess I'd better be going home."

Brendon pulled him into a soft hug. "It was fun," he said, a smile in it.

"Yeah, it was," Dom said, and tried to ignore Gabe poking Bill in the ribs and making lewd hand motions. Patrick smacked Gabe's arm and rolled his eyes.

Ryan kissed his cheek, Spencer pressed a hand to his back and a chest to his side, and Jon put his arm around him. The four of them covered Dom, but he could still breathe. Brendon tucked a slip of paper that Dom was fairly sure would be a phone number into his back pocket.

Dom waved awkwardly at the others in the kitchen and said, "It was nice sort of meeting you," and as he passed called a "Thanks," at Pete, who was holding a struggling puppy and laughing as Joe soaked them both with a hose. Dom walked until he saw a road sign and called a cab.

He got inside, dropped his keys, and stared at the blinking light on his answering machine for a minute. He pressed play, shucking his jacket off as Elijah's voice came through the speakers.

"Dom, sorry I bailed on you last night. Are you okay? Let me know you got home."

Dom shook his head and dialled Billy first. He was half way through the sequence of numbers, absently going through his pockets, when he pulled out the piece of paper. Ten digits were scrawled on it, with 'Brendon's number, but you can get all of us most of the time on this' above them. He looked at it, and decided that maybe he wouldn't tell anyone about this. Not yet.

He finished the sequence and uncrossed his fingers when Billy's voice travelled down the wires from thousands of miles away. "It's not too late, is it?" Dom asked.

"No, and hello to you too, Dom." Billy's eyes would be crinkled around the edges, and from the sounds Dom could make out, Ali would be standing or sitting near him with Jack in her arms, and for five entire seconds Dom wanted to be back in Scotland more than anything.

_I had a gay orgy last night_, he thought about saying, but he didn't. "Good. You will never, in a million years, guess where I was last night."

He sank into the sounds of Billy's voice and traced the numbers on the paper with his thumb, before putting it back into his pocket.


End file.
